


Tiny Sick Munchkin

by ByTheDawn



Series: ...And Other Stories [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:06:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ByTheDawn/pseuds/ByTheDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requested work with the prompt: "Roland/Regina cuteness?"</p><p>Roland is sick and Robin has asked Regina to take care of him, seeing as she actually has a roof over her head and central heating. Also: a couch, blankets, and a pillow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tiny Sick Munchkin

“Gina…? My head hurts…” 

The tiny voice from the overprized couch in Regina’s living room shook her from the storybook she had been reading. The boy—wrapped up in a soft blanket and propped up against a pillow that he almost disappeared into—sighed miserably. Roland’s eyes were misty, and his cheeks were the colour of apples at the height of Summer. Regina doubted he had ever been as sick as he was now, and when Robin had asked Regina if she would care for him in her home so he wouldn’t have to camp out in the woods, she had agreed in a split second. When it came to children—especially children who reminded her so much of Henry—she did not have to think long.

It had been a little awkward; she knew the boy, of course, but not very well. Although he had looked at her with suspicion for the first hour or so, being tugged into a couch bed with his beloved stuffed monkey, ice chips, and a hot water bottle had warmed him up to her affection and care. He had been drifting in and out of sleep for hours now while she read to him in the comfortable chair she had pulled up, glancing up at him every now and again to check if he was alright. She could never look for too long; as soon as she stopped reading, he stirred and blinked open his dark eyes with such sadness and pain that she returned to the words right away, settling him easily.

“I know, sweetheart.” She answered Roland sympathetically, putting the book down and moving to the couch, sitting down near his legs as her hand instinctively found his tummy through the blanket. “You will feel better soon, I promise.”

His lower lip started to quiver and she sighed, hand rushing up to stroke his hot cheek and even hotter forehead. By the time the tears came, they dripped down to the pillow without strain on the boy; he was too tired to really cry, was feeling too miserable to put effort into it. Her heart would have broken for him had it been in her chest, but even without it, seeing a child suffer was hard.

“I miss my mommy…” Roland whined, and she nodded, hating her helplessness in the face of something she couldn’t magic away.

“I know,” She repeated softly. “I know, sweetheart.”

He was silent for a while as he lay on his back, staring up at her with watery eyes, and she stroked his head, his neck, his little tummy, and tried not to think of Henry. How often had she sat up with him like this, telling him stories, trying to wish the illness out of him? Roland took a deep, shuddering, breath that shook his entire body.

“Gina…? Hug?” He asked with the whole of that breath, and she couldn’t help the loving smile that came to her features.

“Come here, little munchkin.” She said softly as she leaned forward and he wrapped his tiny arms around her neck. He buried his hot face into her as she lifted him onto her lap and then—wrapping the blanket that she had dragged with him around him haphazardly again—Regina leaned back on the couch. She settled him into her chest easily, and he clung to her instinctively, settling with a contented sigh, his fist closing around the fabric of her shirt and dragging it with him as his thumb found his mouth. 

Her hand closed protectively around the back of his head while the other kept him close to her body as she arranged herself along the length of the couch, resting easily as she dropped a subconscious kiss onto the top of Roland’s matted head of hair. He moved to snuggle deeper into her, and she sighed, thankful that she did not have her heart—if she had, this would have been a moment of excruciating pain and dangerous affection. She could not afford to fall in love with another little boy when she had no idea if his father would stay in Storybrooke once all the Wicked Witch madness was over, and everything about these quiet moments of closeness reminded her of Henry—the son who did not even remember her.

Roland whimpered, and Regina shook thoughts of Henry and the future from her mind. Without really thinking about it, she pulled the boy a little closer and started to hum a quiet tune that settled Roland instantly. She could feel his entire back rise as he took a deep breath and his hand relaxed around her shirt as the soft tones drifted over him. Contently, he drifted off within seconds as she continued to hum whatever note came to her mind, jumping between known songs and half-forgotten melodies.

She hummed until her throat was sore, and stayed in the same position until her back cramped with the strain. She remained still until Roland stirred and he lifted his tiny head. She smiled softly at him and he smiled back a little weakly. Quietly, she checked his forehead and it felt a lot cooler than before. His eyes were also a little clearer. It seems the fever had either broken or was in the process of breaking. A weight lifted off of her chest right away.

“Are you feeling a little better, munchkin?” She asked softly, and he nodded before he lay his head down again, obviously having accepted her comforting presence in his life.

“More singing.” He demanded happily, and the smile that came to Regina’s features emerged entirely without her say-so. Again, she kissed the top of his head and resigned herself to being hoarse and sore tomorrow. It was worth it to make a sick little boy a little happier.


End file.
